


The Pact

by HayaChu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2227050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HayaChu/pseuds/HayaChu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean and Marco make a pact in high school: If they’re not married by the time they’re thirty, they should get together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pact

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this post.](http://shingekinoboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/96129083651/hi-yes-i-would-just-like-to-share-an-au-with-you-where)
> 
> I've never written anything like this, but here you go. Enjoy!

“You’re my best friend, man. We should totally get together if neither of us are married by the time we’re thirty. I’d be cool with that.”

 

Marco’s heart beats uncontrollably over Jean’s blasé statement, but he keeps his expression calm. He hopes his face isn’t too flushed. “Yeah,” Marco answers when Jean’s gaze lands on him, “Sounds good to me.”

 

What Jean doesn’t know, is that Marco is infatuated with him. Has been for years.

 

“I can’t wait for summer,” Jean finally says, his gaze focused on the clouds passing by overhead once again. “We should definitely go to the beach.”

 

And just like that, the two laps back into their casual conversation, as if nothing had happened. Marco feels his heart cracking, but studiously ignores the pain.

 

It’s one month before they graduate from high school, and Jean and Marco will be going to different universities. Jean will be staying local, studying art at Trost University, but Marco will be moving away to study computer science at Sina University. This will be the first time since they've met that they will be so far away from each other.

 

* * *

 

Jean and Marco graduate, summer comes and goes, and soon Marco is leaving for Sina U. Jean is there to see him off. They don’t even bother with their usual “bro-hug”. They hold each other in a long embrace, because neither knows when they’ll see the other again.

 

“I’m gonna miss you, man” Jean say around what sounds suspiciously like a sniffle.

 

“I’ll miss you too” Macro tightens his arms around Jean, taking a large inhale of his best friend’s scent before letting go.

 

And then Marco is gone.

 

* * *

 

Jean and Marco manage to keep in touch for a while. They’re constantly texting each other as they acclimate to their new lives. On occasion they’ll call the other, usually when one of them has had a particularly hard day. They always feel better when they hear the other’s voice on the other end of the line.

 

After about a year their contact seems to lessen.

 

And lessen.

 

And lessen.

 

Before Marco even realizes it, an entire year has passed and he hasn’t heard a thing from Jean. It’s not like Marco has forgotten about him, it’s the opposite in fact. Marco thinks about Jean every day. But it seems like Jean has moved on, and Marco decides it’s time for him to move on as well.

 

Marco ends up in a few relationships throughout his time at Sina, but none of them go anywhere. Hell, most of them don’t get past the first date. Marco isn’t sure he can even count those as relationships, but whatever. He doesn’t think he’ll ever find someone to fill the hole that Jean has left in his heart.

 

Eventually, he stops trying.

 

By the time Marco graduates and moves back to Trost, he hasn’t been on a date in over a year. The thought isn’t as depressing as Marco thought it would be, to his surprise.

 

Marco submerges himself in his work. He occasionally goes out with his friends that he’s made through work, but it’s not often.

 

Marco still thinks about Jean every day, but refuses to reach out and try to contact him. Jean’s moved on, even if Marco can’t do the same. It would be unfair of him to push his way back into Jean’s life now, anyways. Maybe Jean doesn’t want him back. But deep down Marco knows that the only reason he’s refusing to seek out Jean is because there’s the possibility that Jean has found someone else. Marco doesn’t think his heart could take it.

 

* * *

 

 

When Marco’s thirtieth birthday eventually rolls around he finds himself drinking shitty beer alone in his own apartment. Connie and Sasha had tried to convince him to go out and celebrate, but Marco can’t find a reason to celebrate.

 

He’s thirty and he’s completely alone.

 

Day turns to night, and around six PM Marco’s phone begins to ring. He ignores it. It’s probably Connie calling again anyways, trying to convince him to go out and stop moping. Marco just wants to be left alone with his crappy beer, however.

 

The phone clicks, going to voicemail.

 

It’s not Connie.

 

“Hey,” the voice has Marco frozen, his gaze fixated on the phone hanging on the wall across the room. “I’m sure you’ve probably forgotten all about me, and I probably don’t mean anything to you anymore, and our pact we made probably is nothing but a memory you forgot all about… But- fuck, come have a beer with me and let’s catch up and--”

 

Marco can’t reach the phone fast enough. He ends up banging his knee against his coffee table on the way up from the couch, causing him to stumble and nearly face plant.

 

But he makes it to the phone before Jean finishes leaving his message.

 

“Yes,” Macro whispers breathlessly into the receiver, hoping that Jean can hear him. He hears the other sigh in relief on the other end.

 

Marco ends up meeting Jean outside an old bar, and he realizes getting to see Jean again is the best birthday present he could have ever received.

 

Jean has grown, but so has Marco. He can’t help but laugh at Jean’s scowl when he realizes Marco is still taller than him. The two settle at the bar, and there are no uncomfortable silences to be had. It’s as if they’ve never been apart, easily falling into casual conversation.

 

“How’d you get my number?” Marco asks around his drink. He loves the way Jean’s cheeks flush in embarrassment.

 

“Your parents gave it to me,” Jean finally answers. Jean admits to calling his old house and praying that Marco’s parents still lived there. They do. He turns his head in an effort to hide his face, but Marco’s laughter is infectious and he finds himself laughing along.

 

They talk about University and work, and everything that’s happened in their lives since they parted ways. Although Marco is paying attention to every word that Jean says, he’s also distracted by Jean himself. He can’t help but look over Jean and notice the things that have changed. He’s missed Jean so much, and he regrets not keeping in contact. Marco regrets not being there for Jean when Jean needed him, and he regrets not having Jean there when he’s needed him.

 

Marco decides that this time he’ll do things right, he’ll stay by Jean’s side no matter what. Through the good and through the bad, no matter how much it might hurt.

 

Then Jean says something that catches Marco off guard, completely stealing his breath away.

 

“I had a crush on you in high school, you know” Jean’s voice is so soft that Marco almost doesn’t hear him. But he does. Marco’s never heard Jean’s voice sound so unsure, so weak, before. Marco can’t breathe. He can’t take his eyes off of Jean.

 

Jean is flushed, and he doesn’t know why he’s confessing to this. He doubts Marco feels the way he does, but the alcohol has given him courage, so he keeps talking. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for these past twelve years.”

 

Jean looks scared, worried about how Marco might react.

 

Marco doesn’t know whether to sob or throw his hands up in joy. He settles on kissing Jean, instead.

 

Jean is surprised, frozen in his seat, but after a moment he responds to the kiss. When they pull away, Marco thinks he might end up sobbing anyways. In joy, this time. “Me too, Jean” he says, his voice cracking in an embarrassing manner with his unshed tears. “Me too.”

 

Jean is stunned. He can’t form words. Instead, he leans in for another kiss. It’s chaste, just a quick peck on the lips. “Let’s get out of here” Jean whispers against Marco’s lips. Marco nods in agreement. “My place isn’t too far,” they rise from their seats together, the warm night air hitting them as they exit the bar.

 

Jean automatically reaches for Marco’s hand, pulling him down the block. It takes longer to get from Jean’s favorite bar to his apartment than usual. This is because Marco keeps stopping him, closing in for a kiss every so often. The closer they get to Jean’s apartment, the less chaste the kisses become.

 

“Shit” Jean curses as he fumbles with his keys. Marco is pressed up behind him, sucking on his neck and his hands already working on Jean’s belt. When Jean feels Marco grind his erection against him, he drops his keys. “Fuck!”

 

“I’m trying to,” Marco chuckles against Jean’s neck. “But we have to get inside first.”

 

Jean finally manages to open the door. It’s barely closed behind him before the two of them start stripping, lips only separating when they pull off their shirts, discarding their clothes uncaringly around the small apartment as Jean leads Marco to the bedroom. They flop down onto the bed together, their clothes completely disposed of.

 

Marco doesn’t waste any time, taking Jean’s cock in his hand and pumping it steadily as he moves back to littering Jean’s neck in hickies. Jean has to bite his lip to keep from moaning loudly, wrapping his legs around Marco to pull him closer.

 

“Marco” he groans, trying to calm himself enough to form a coherent sentence. He can’t manage to. “Fuck!” he yelps as Marco presses against his slit before going back to pump him rhythmically. “M-Marco, wait!”

 

Through the cloud of desire Marco hears him, and manages to pull his hand away, although he really, _really_ , doesn’t want to. Marco begins to worry, maybe Jean is second-guessing himself. Marco doesn't want to leave, but he will if Jean asks him to.

 

But Marco is reassured when Jean pulls out lube and a condom from his bed-side dresser. Jean’s voice is shaky, but Marco manages to catch every word. “I’ve been waiting half my life for this” and Marco is sure Jean is fighting between continuing to speak and rolling up into a ball of embarrassment, so he waits patiently. “Just…” a deep breath, “I won’t last, so please” Jean sighs, leaning up to kiss Marco deeply. “Please” he whispers, “just fuck me already.”

 

And Marco obliges.

 

Well, for the most part. Marco knows, or hopes, that he’ll have the chance to learn all of Jean’s desires in time, that he’ll be able to find out all the ways to play his body, to have Jean moaning, keening, and whimpering for him. Just for him. But tonight’s not that night.

 

But Marco won’t just fuck him. No, Marco insists, even if just in his own head, that they are making love. Because Marco is sappy, and Jean wouldn’t have him any other way.

 

Jean is getting impatient by the time Marco is finished preparing him, but Marco won’t risk hurting him. When Marco finally lines himself up and pushes into the tight heat that is waiting for him he is caught completely by surprise by the porn-worthy howl of a moan that escapes from Jean.

 

Marco chuckles breathlessly into Jean’s shoulder once he’s fully sheathed, he’s sure that if Jean’s neighbors had been sleeping, they certainly are not any more. Jesus.

 

“Stop laughing and start moving!” Jean grunts, moving his hips in and attempt to get Marco going, but his tone is actually quite amused at the situation, rather than embarrassed.

 

When Marco begins to move, his thrusts deep and slow, Jean doesn’t even attempt to be quite. He moans loudly every time Marco pushes into him just right, fitting inside him perfectly. Jean becomes completely undone beneath Marco.

 

Marco knows that Jean’s words were accurate, that he won’t last long. Jean gasps, clinging to Marco’s shoulders when he begins to stroke Jean in time with his thrusts. It only takes a couple of pumps before Jean is calling out Marco’s name as he spills his seed over his own chest and stomach. Marco follows soon after as Jean tightens around him, his thrusts losing rhythm and becoming erratic, Jean’s name on his lips as he comes.

 

They bask in the afterglow of orgasm together, wrapped in each other’s arms. Eventually Marco pulls away, but only to grab a warm, damp washcloth and to dispose of the condom. He crawls back into bed with Jean and proceeds to clean the drying come off of Jean’s body before it gets too uncomfortable.

 

“Thanks” Jean grumbles, on the edge of sleep. Marco hums in response, dropping the cloth to the floor rather than putting forth the effort to take it back to the bathroom.

 

The two end up falling asleep is each other’s embrace.

 

* * *

 

Jean groans as he rolls over in bed, his arms searching for the body he knows should be there. They meet cold air, instead. He cracks his eyes open blearily, the space where Marco should be is empty.

 

Jean is awake and upright faster than he’s ever been. The bed is cold, Marco’s been gone for a while. Jean feels his heart falling apart, he thought he’d never have to feel this way again. Not after he watched Marco leave for Sina.

 

Before he even realizes it, tears are falling from his eyes, staining his cheeks. He can’t believe it, Marco is gone. Again.

 

“FUCK!” he screams before he begins sobbing uncontrollably. Jean doesn’t know if he can survive it this time, as his body is wracked with sobs, shaking and heaving. He doesn’t hear the heavy stomp of rushed footsteps, and is startled as his bedroom door slams open.

 

“Jean?!” It’s Marco’s voice. Jean pulls his face away from where he had buried it in his hands, covered in tears and grime. Marco is standing in his bedroom doorway clad in only a pair of boxer briefs and wielding a spatula. It’s then that Jean catches the whiff of eggs and bacon wafting throughout the apartment.

 

God, he’s so stupid. Of course Marco wouldn’t leave, he’s not that kind of guy.

 

“What happened?” Marco asks, his voice filled with concern. Jean can’t help but smile at this, because he know now that Marco will never leave. Jean will never be alone again.

 

“I thought you left,” he says, and he feels like a complete idiot when Marco shoots him the softest, kindest, most caring smile.

 

“Never,” Marco whispers as he climbs back into bed next to Jean, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Never again.”

 

Minutes pass as the two hold each other in silence. Marco is the one who speaks up first.

 

“Do you still take your coffee black?”


End file.
